


What People Need

by My_Young_Friend



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:26:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Young_Friend/pseuds/My_Young_Friend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes what people need is continuity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What People Need

Steve flinched as the door slammed. House stared at him as he dug into the bedding in the corner of his cage. You'd think he'd be used to it by now - it was almost a pattern. Open door, receive visitor, listen to lecture, make flippant remark, watch visitor slam door behind them.

 

House considered moving Steve's cage further from the door. In his overcrowded apartment there was only a finite amount of free space, and he wasn't yet prepared to put Steve on the piano. There were boxes everywhere, adding yet more clutter to the already crowded living room.

 

In three days he'd heard more knocks on his door than in the three previous _months_. He worked with most of these people every day; why on Earth did they think he'd listen to them any more now? Because they'd made the effort to come to his home? Faulty logic. If anything, he was more likely to reject them as intruders.

 

He supposed their visits were better than hers had been before all this. If she'd screamed or attacked him it would have been better, but she'd just turned up with his things in boxes. A quip about early birthday presents died in his throat - he wished he could forget how she looked. Not angry, not bitter; resigned. Handing him the box she was currently holding, she had said emotionlessly, _you win_. It had made him furious. He'd wanted to yell at her that it wasn't a game. He'd wanted to grab her and shake her, force her to understand that this was not something he had planned. He wanted to tell her that she wasn't going to make him feel guilty, but that would have been a lie. House had been reduced to silence by one look from this woman.

 

After that, everyone else had found out. She'd called Cuddy to explain why her fiancée wouldn't be coming in to work for a few days. Cuddy had reacted in typical fashion, barging in to House's DDX. In front of his fellows she had chewed him out, and he stood there and took it. All three had looked at him with disgust until he walked out.

 

That had been three days ago. He had been surprised that Chase was the first to turn up, but was smirking inwardly by the time Chase's sermon began. He hadn't thought that the Australian had the backbone for it. Said sermon covered the familiar topics of ethics and fidelity; apparently you could take the boy out of the seminary, but not the seminary out of the boy. When Chase noticed that House was in no way listening, he'd gotten aggravated and left not long after. Cameron had followed, as had Foreman, although he was more annoyed that House had walked out and left him to deal with the department. A few people he vaguely recalled as members of the Oncology department had stopped by, but they were a very unimaginative bunch, all with the same pathetic speech (one he was sure he'd heard first from Oprah). They knew of his reputation and generally came in packs, huddled together for protection. He let them yell, smiling as they did so. As soon as they ceased to be amusing, he kicked them out.

 

Cuddy was the last. Of course, she'd calmed down a bit more by then. "I just want to understand why you did this _now_."

 

House could barely recall his response; it was more automatic than anything else. She was apparently still angry enough to storm out - but not before threatening him.

 

"He has given up _everything_ for you at every turn" she seethed, "and every time you've just stood there and let him. And what he's going through now, he's going through alone because, what, you couldn't spare the time in your busy schedule?"

 

"You should leave." House said, quietly.

 

"When he gets back, things will be different. I will _not_ see you do to him what you did to Stacy." The fury in Cuddy's voice was clear.

 

As the echoes reverberated around his stuffy apartment, House stood, frozen to the spot he had occupied throughout Cuddy's 'visit'.

"I'm a coward"

House turned towards the source of the voice as footsteps signalled its approach. Wilson looked as though he had been put through the wringer. He stared at House.

"I'm not listening to that again. I'm not letting them say those things to you anymore."

"We had an agreement," said House, again quietly.

Wilson completely ignored him. "I'm going to see Cuddy right now."

As he moved towards the door, House caught his arm. "We had an _agreement_" he repeated.

"I don't care! I've had to sit in there for hours at a time listening to everyone say all manner of appalling and unjustified things to you and I've _had enough_!"

It was interesting, House decided, the way Wilson's voice peaked when he was furious. It was the same as when he got a good hand in poker or when House had teased him for too long and Wilson was about to pounce on him.

"No," House answered, softly.

For a moment, both men just looked at each other. House could see how much this was affecting his friend. Even though their relationship, whatever it was, had progressed, Wilson was, first and foremost, a friend - and this was hurting him a lot more than it was hurting House. Wilson was the man patients thanked for a terminal diagnosis. He didn't understand that House really didn't care when people berated him. _Most people_, a treacherous voice whispered in the back of his head.

Wilson caved. "This still isn't fair." He sighed before collapsing on the couch. House went to the fridge for two beers before joining him there. Wilson rested his head on the man's shoulder and stared, not really watching, at the television. House allowed him this.

House had told Wilson before this that, when everything kicked off, he was to stay out of it. Wilson had fought him over it, but House had been adamant. He never said it, but Wilson knew House was trying to protect him. Eventually, of course, House had won. Wilson had agreed to stay away from the hospital for a little while, and to keep hidden when visitors called. During Cameron's lecture - and he'd never suspected that she cared so much for his well-being - he had nearly stormed out to put her in her place. House had heard him pacing and threw Cameron out before Wilson was able to confront her. That had lead to their first real argument and, a little later, their first round of make-up sex.

House was glad he'd never been forced to explain to Wilson what was really going on. Intelligent though he was, House wasn't certain he'd understand. The way House saw it everyone needs a villain and a hero in a situation. Wilson was the much loved 'boy wonder' oncologist and a definite hero. House was brash, vulgar, arrogant and generally a bastard - an almost perfect villain.

It was so much easier for him to let everyone assume that he had corrupted Wilson. That he'd broken up the potential fourth marriage. No-one would believe that the Hero had seduced the Villain: that isn't how the story goes. Red Riding Wilson is lead astray by the Big Bad House who convinces him to leave his fiancée. This is how it goes - except that it didn't. Wilson wouldn't have cope with the fallout of the situation if he was the villain. So House had stepped up. He couldn't stop Wilson from feeling guilty - Wilson wouldn't be Wilson without the guilt - but he could stop the recriminations. Which he did. And sitting on the couch like this with Wilson's head tucked into the curve of his neck and shoulder he didn't regret a second of it.

"You watching this?" Wilson asked.

"Not really. Why, you want some absolution from Father House?"

"I thought you said I had nothing to feel guilty about."

"You don't - and yet you are feeling guilty. Very interesting."

"Well, we can't all be as amoral as you."

House considered this as he watched Wilson get up and make his way to the bedroom. Wilson paused at the door, raising an eyebrow and smiling. "You coming?"

"Definitely." 

House rose from the couch, approaching in his typically predatory fashion, despite the cane. He stopped on the other side of the doorway, leaning in towards the shorter man. "You might too if you're good."

Returning the gesture Wilson leaned towards House, so close that their lips were almost touching. "So I have to be good, but you can be as bad as you like?"

"Yup. That's the deal."

"Is there a reason for that, or is it just your kink?"

 House took the initiative and ducked down to taste Wilson's neck. Lips and tongue sliding along the smooth skin, he reached that sweet spot just behind Wilson's ear. Sucking here, he knew, elicited an utterly wanton moan. Raising his head slightly, House leaned in to whisper, "Because some people are heroes and some people are villains"

And some people, Wilson decided later, are both.

 


End file.
